Thursday, August 09, 2007

My company hired a graphic designer, Greg, and fired him at 87 days of employment. Typical behavior, doing anything they can to weasel out of paying unemployment.

I never met Greg, because he worked at our corporate office and I work here, but I would email him my various graphic/website needs and requests almost every day.

A few days after Greg was let go from my company, I met Colin and a buddy of his at the bar. I recognized this friend – who I previously did not know – immediately. I’d played coed soccer against him more than a few times.

His name is Greg.

And you see where this is going.

It wasn’t until after I left the bar that Colin called me and was like, “do you know who that was?”

I was blissfully clueless.

Colin told me. I blasted him for not telling me before. I was floored by what a small, small, small world we live in. And then we laughed about it. Colin relayed the reasoning Greg was given for his termination (complete bullocks); I gave him the real story.

A few weeks ago, I went out with Colin and Greg again. We somehow managed to avoid the subject of work. By awkwardly and consciously dancing around it.

Colin invited me out with him and Greg tonight. “It would be fun. Blah blah blah. You’re already going to be in the neighborhood. And on and on and on. We might be out a little late. Blah blah blah.

Let me summarize this for you: this random guy who worked for my company, who I used to play soccer against, who is Colin’s friend is dating Colin’s high school girlfriend, who was my soccer teammate...while she was with Colin.

Hi. I'm A.

Born, raised, educated in the Midwest, I am such a Midwesterner. So Midwestern, if you will.

I am: a blogger of 8+ years, forever searching for my next athletic challenge, hopelessly overscheduled and always, always eating.

I started So Midwestern right after I graduated from college, hoping to chronicle my transition to adulthood. Graduate school, four half marathons, two new nephews, three apartments, a trip to Africa, a sprinkle of heartbreak, dozens of unfinished knitting projects, four turns as a bridesmaid, 8,913 job applications and two full-time positions later: I’m fairly convinced that the day when I feel like a legitimate, full-fledged grownup will never come. So I’ll just keep on blogging.

I write about a little bit of everything and a lot of nothing. Toss my ramblings with a few pictures, a touch of swearing and an endless appreciation for the beauty that is David Beckham and you have So Midwestern. Welcome.